October 3rd: Coventry City v Leicester City (Championship)
[BREAKING NEWS: Blue Maniac lands sidekick
I have recruited an occasional sidekick (sort of a part-timer) and, thanks to assistance from Any Question Answered, her name is now Mistress Sparkle.]
Sparkle beats me to the bus station - she's apparently been here since 8.15 or something. I arrive at 8.30, as agreed, and we chat as we wait. On schedule, the coach to Birmingham arrives, and we make our way to the only available adjacent seats (at the very back), next to a bloke who smells a bit. During the longest hour of recent weeks, Sparkle entertains herself by sending just shy of a thousand text messages. I entertain myself by watching a variety of idiots on the coach, including a woman who keeps fiddling with the air conditioning buttons above her head, apparently not knowing what any of them are doing.
At Digbeth, there's a short interval wherein we see a trio of Tottenham fans on their way to Bolton and I investigate the wares on offer in the shop (zero of interest). The coach is now late, so we go up to the information desk and ask when it'll be here. "In the next few minutes, boarding from Zone A," we're cheerfully assured.
Some fifteen minutes later, in Zone D (at the opposite end of the station to Zone A) we're told the coach to London (via Coventry) is boarding. I privately curse the witch who sent us to the wrong end of the station, and lead Sparkle to the appropriate gate, where we discover the driver is nowhere to be seen. We stand and wait for a few minutes, then some bloke wanders up to the front of the coach and invites us to board. It transpires he's the driver, although you'd never know it from his attire. No matter, Sparkle and I are on board.
We arrive in Coventry some minutes after 11am and very soon receive a call from Ben, who has just got off the train at the other end of the city centre. After a much-needed late breakfast (for which Ben pays) we return to the railway station to get a taxi to the stadium. Just as we do, two young strangers ask if they can get in with us. No problem there, even if they are Coventry fans. As it turns out, they're friendly enough, but just a tad on the racist side. At the ground, we split the fare unevenly (there are only two of them compared to three of us, but they pay £6 of the £11 fare. Ben, on the other hand, pays fuck all. Still, given that Sparkle gives me two quid, I figure I've only paid three so I reckon it's alright). As a trio we enter the club shop / ticket office. Sparkle and I go and find a mug for my collection, while Ben collects the ticket I ordered for him yesterday.
An extremely long walk later, Sparkle and I find our seats just as the game commences. Early on, it looks like it could be a good scrap - these local derbies often are. At some point, it's confirmed that DJ Campbell is, somehow, on the bench. Something must have changed there.
A good first half takes a sour turn towards the end as a Paul Gallagher handball results in a free kick for the home side. Sammy Clingan, whose name definitely does not sound like 'cling-on', hits a top-notch free-kick past Chris Weale. Bollocks. Sparkle instantly jumps to the defence of Gally, despite nobody saying anything negative about him. This is because Sparkle is in love with Gally's car.
At half time, we're joined by Ben, who fills an empty seat next to me. The second half starts somewhat dully for City, but on the hour Mr Pearson decides it's time for a change. Or three. Steve Howard and Martyn Waghorn (variously called 'Wags', 'Waggeh' and 'Foghorn' by different sections of the City support) enter the field of play, as does Campbell for the first time in a competitive match this season. This bold switch brings about a change in the tone of the game as all three men affect the game in their own way (in Campbell's case, this involves firing an apparently simple cross into the side netting). Ten minutes after the changes, Waghorn sends a screaming half-volley past Kieran Westwood to level things up.
After the final whistle, we eventually make our way to the buses to take us back into the centre. I hand over a little over a tenner for the three of us, and we seat ourselves at the back. Sparkle repays most of her fare. Ben pays fuck all nowt. Again.
Back in the centre, Ben is soon off to catch his train back to the city of comedy accents, where he lives. Sparkle and I decide it's time to pick up some drinks, and this time she pays fuck all nowt.
[It's becoming a common theme, this. Fortunately these are people I can trust well enough not to take the piss. If someone else tried it - you, for example - I'd tell them to get fucked.]
As we wait for the coach, Sparkle sends another six dozen text messages while I watch local idiots. Bus stations are always full of the type of person you hope to avoid on buses. The coach back to Leicester arrives not a moment too soon, and about half an hour later Sparkle and I part company at St Margaret's.
I like having a sidekick.
Final score: Coventry 1 Leicester 1
Time: 8 hours 45 minutes
Ticket: £25
Coach: £16.90
Total: £41.90
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